Read MoreWhy must I hear every detail of the hair stylist’s life story when I sit down in a barber’s chair? I mean — I’ve known you for what, maybe ten minutes?
Here are my “Ten Commandments for Hair Stylists.”
Nolan during happier times, at Cannes France in 2012
I just got fucked again.
Third time this week.
I made another bad restaurant choice.
You’ve got to understand. Eating is the incomparable highlight of my day. When I’m out on the road working, I get to carve out one peaceful hour of perfection when everything is right with my universe. I temporarily forget all my troubles and devour whatever I want to eat and drink. I anticipate dinner the same way a sex-starved sailor waits for shore leave.
Tonight started out with such promise. I received an enthusiastic restaurant recommendation from a trusted source on a rotisserie chicken place — not that I’m into that kind of thing. But the way the food and preparation was described sounded too good to pass up. You get an entire marinated chicken, with two fresh sides, and a drink for $13.95. I spent the last 20 hours dreaming about that chicken place like it was a hot piece of ass.
Then, I managed to get lost.
Of course, I forgot to write down either (1) the NAME of the place, or (2) the ADDRESS. I don’t know why those two insignificant details would be important when visiting a strange city, and all. Anyway, already buckled in the car and starving I decided to “wing it” and ended up screaming at crawling traffic while I must have done 35 U-turns looking for what turned out to be the lost restaurant of Atlantis.
Fuck this!
Unable to find the chicken shack, I contemplated three options. Now, you have to understand what exactly I’ve eaten these last eight nights here in South Florida. Four meals were at “Stresa,” a marvelous little Italian restaurant where (at age 51) I’m the youngest patron in the dining room by twenty years. Then, there was Da Vinci’s down in Boca Raton (another outstanding favorite) — which means five dinners out of eight were authentic Italian. One night I skipped dinner altogether. The two others were Thai and Mexican.
So, Italian was out — at least for tonight.
While looping around lost and it now in the dark of night, I passed by another Thai restaurant that looked mighty tempting from the street. The good thing about Thai places are — (1) the service is always excellent, (2) the restaurants are always clean, (3) the food is always at least decent, (4) it’s not expensive.
Why I didn’t listen to my inner voice and opt for the “sure thing” of Thai is something I now deeply regret. Then again, I wouldn’t be sitting here some 90 minutes later fuming at what I just experienced, which would leave you now reading some tiresome political essay of mine.
My other option was a high-dollar steakhouse or another place called “Park Avenue Barbeque.” I quickly crossed off the fancy steakhouse, figuring I didn’t want to blow $75 eating all by myself.
Barbeque it was.
Naturally, I didn’t listen to any of my gut instincts. From the moment I wheeled into the parking lot, everything about this place screamed “RUN AWAY!”
Listen up. I’m going to share a little secret with you that will serve you well for the rest of your life. The topic: Good Restaurants. You want to know the first thing to look for when entering a strange restaurant? No, it’s not the food. You look at the people.
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Read MoreContinuing from yesterday’s series of articles…
READ “THE POKER ONION (PART ONE)” HERE
Note: There’s a bitter irony in this faux article, written in 2000 shortly after Chris “Jesus” Ferguson won the world championship that same year. I had some fun with the “Jesus” thing, combining that angle with the constant banter about online poker being “rigged.” Because of Ferguson’s troubles and the immeasurable damage that he and his cronies did to the poker community, this article has a much different feel now than when it was written and Ferguson was such a respected figure. But I’ll go ahead and include it today as part of the redux.
Read MoreTHE ONION is one of my favorite websites.
THE ONION mocks current events by posting completely fabricated news stories which tend to be wickedly funny. It’s essentially a news site where absolutely nothing is true. Sort of like watching FOX NEWS — except it’s far more humorous.
The real gems are articles that appear utterly ridiculous. But when reading a bit closer between the lines, they reveal some startling truths about an issue. Take a look at THE ONION and I’ll bet you won’t be able to leave the site before laughing your ass off while nodding your head in agreement at the witty satire.
Ten years or so ago I wrote several “Onion-esque” poker stories. None of these stories are/were true, of course. I’m posting them here for the first time. These articles originally appeared at POKERPAGES.COM between 2000-2002.
Prior to each article here, I’ve added a few notes from memory in order to place them into proper context. Again, keep in mind these “stories” were written more than ten years ago, long before the so-called “poker boom.” So, in some aspects, they’re dated.
This is the first of a two-part series.
The only thing worse than flying, is flying during the holiday season.
Seriously, could air travel be any less glamorous?
When I was a kid, I remember people used to get dressed up when they traveled by air. Fliers were polite. No one ever seemed to be in a rush. The seats were comfortable. There was plenty of leg room. The airlines served you a hot meal and it tasted good. Alcoholic beverages were free. You never paid additional charges and your luggage arrived on time. When there was a flight delay, the airline apologized and even put you up in a first-class hotel, when necessary.
Now, boarding a plane is pretty much like getting on a Greyhound bus — only with wings.
Flying is constant battle. You battle to find a decent fare. You battle to get a good seat assignment. You battle to get to the airport on time — at least two hours early. You battle to run the gauntlet through TSA screening without being strip searched. You battle to get into the right boarding group. You battle for precious overhead bin space. You battle for the armrest. You battle for peace and quiet during the flight. You battle to depart your row so as to exit the aircraft. You battle to claim your luggage. Then, once you’re out of the airport, you battle to get a taxi or a rental car.
Indeed, if flying has become a serious of battles, then I’m hereby declaring war!
1. BIN HOGS — I realize the airlines now try to pork you for $30 per checked bag each way. But carry on abuse has become intolerable. Now, jackasses are hauling 50-pound suitcases down the aisles. Then, they heave the bone crushers into a tiny overhead bin space intended to be a storage area for purses and coats. I’m so sick of seeing these selfish pricks usurping every inch of storage space with bags the size of a Great Dane. It’s time for airlines to start enforcing carry-on size rules.
2. ARM REST THUGS — I paid the same $389 fare you did. So, move your fucking body part off my half of the arm rest. You’re not sitting at home in a Lazy Boy parked in front of the television. You’re in public. Try to act like a responsible adult.
3. BORING CONVERSATIONALISTS — I don’t want to hear your life story. I don’t want to hear your personal problems. I don’t give a rat’s ass what happened to you last week in Cleveland. I don’t care what your opinion is of the Redskins-Cowboys game. You’re on a cheap Southwest Airline flight just like me, pal. You’re not a guest on The David Letterman Show. Zip it.
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